Not to Be Trusted
by VergofTowels
Summary: A collection of short fics that I've written for Thor.  Mainly Thor/Loki, mainly angst-driven.  Read at your own risk.
1. You Have a Problem

Written for the prompt Addiction. They're not all going to be this happy.

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><p>It was closer to afternoon than morning when Thor rolled over and blinked awake, hot under a pile of sheets and coverlet. Shoving half-heartedly at it, he shifted his gaze to his left only to find his brother already awake, lying on his belly, poking away at his "Pad of I." "G'morning," he mumbled, running a hand down Loki's hip. "What are you up to?"<p>

Loki smiled, but did not look up from his business. "Oh, I don't suppose you would like it very much."

Thor sighed. "Not the Angry Birds, then."

The smile was joined by a cackle. "No, not quite."

Thor sat up and pushed his hair from his face. "What is it this time? Robots? Dinosaurs?" He absently stroked the small of Loki's back, eliciting a murmur of appreciation.

"Negative," replied Loki, tapping away. After a moment, a beep issued from the machine and he put it aside, looking pleased with himself. "Nothing so monstrous as that." He let Thor turn his chin to kiss him, opening his mouth eagerly.

Only a moment after they had broken apart, Thor's cell phone rang. When he answered it, an irate Tony Stark shouted something about a rain of flowers and a giant swarm of bees before a loud buzzing cut him off and the call ended. Thor blinked, then groaned and got heavily out of bed. "Bees, Brother?"

Loki curled into the blankets again, now taking up the whole bed. "Consider it me doing my part for Midgard. You do have a shortage of them, do you not?" He lazily looked Thor up and down as the God of Thunder dressed, then pulled a pillow closer and closed his eyes. "Have fun."

Mjolnir in hand, Thor paused at the door, leveling a stare back toward the bed. "When I return, we shall have a talk about your habit of trying to kill my friends."

"I can stop any time I want to," Loki said, yawning. When the door had shut and Thor's footsteps had disappeared from the hall, he smirked. "But why would I want to?"

And he had a better idea of what to do when Thor got back.

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><p>I love comments. Commenters get internet cookies.<p> 


	2. Mastered

Written for the prompt Desire: _you are not the maker nor the master of me._

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><p>In the morning, Loki has gone.<p>

_Sharp nails dig hard into his back as Loki howls his name again, writhing and sweating and loving every minute of Thor buried deep inside him. When he comes, he cuts Thor's back wide open and there's blood on the sheets. There goes another hotel they will never visit again._

It isn't a surprise, really.

_Panting, lost among the blanket that twists like a living thing at his throat, Thor seeks out his brother's eyes. Loki looks lazy, half-lidded and sated. A snake, digesting. He smirks when he notices Thor, then turns away. Thor hears him get up a minute later but doesn't follow._

This is the way it has always been.

_It isn't Loki's limp that starts him from a half-doze, but the sound of a zipper. He lifts his head. His brother is hunched beside his suitcase, wearing charcoal gray slacks and his own snowy skin. Thor can count his ribs, even in the dark. He wonders if Loki has been eating. He sighs._

From the moment they started, he knew it would end this way.

_Loki doesn't answer any of his questions, but that isn't new. He doesn't even say much. Tired, perhaps. Thor wants to gather him up and throw him back to the bed, hold him down and strike him or kiss him until he lays still for once and speaks his mind for once and stays for once._

Rinse and repeat.

_He's allowed to use tongue before Loki leaves, and Loki lingers in his embrace a little longer than usual. His coat looks brand new; the passport in his pocket is worn almost to scraps. Thor isn't usually awake for this. Loki isn't usually willing. But it doesn't change anything._

In the morning, Loki has gone.

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	3. Pyrrhus

Written for the prompt Crying in the Rain. I think.

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><p>There's only one figure left standing in the rubble when the smoke and dust clear. Tony can see the dark silhouette, still against the foggy surroundings, still as a statue. It's a man; the shoulders are broad enough that he can tell that much. He can't make out if it's Thor or his brother. He approaches cautiously, ready to shoot should he need to. Cap is behind him, backing him up.<p>

After a moment, the figure's head rises minutely and turns, looking directly at Tony. It's Loki. There's no way Thor would ever stand like that. So very still, in the smoke and the dust.

"Stand down," Tony calls, targeting Loki's chest. "We have you outnumbered."

He doesn't reply, but slowly raises his horned helmet and settles it atop his raven hair.

Tony flies forward, and now he can see the square, a mass of debris from the surrounding buildings, chunks of ice, and molten asphalt. There's a body lying on the ground. In familiar armor. He realizes that the dust has faded from the air. It's raining.

Loki speaks. "I did this." There's blood on his face, slowly rinsing away. "Thor. Is dead by my hand. Asgard… falls to me."

Tony doesn't want to believe those words, but the cold shock on Loki's face, even as he announces his victory, convinces him more than anything that they are true. He rushes forward to kneel beside the body. Loki doesn't move. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the rain picks up, hissing across the street.

Thor looks bad. He looks dead. Tony's visor is giving him a negative on vital signs.

He suddenly realizes that he's going to kill Loki.

But that's when he hears it. Low, under the rain, but impossibly, hideously clear, Tony hears a shuddering breath. A pinched cry. Behind him, Loki has hunched into himself, horns lowered submissively. He seems small for a god. Small, even, for a man.

Tony closes Thor's eyes and calls SHIELD.

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><p>Comments are rainbows.<p> 


	4. Cusp

Written for the prompt Fear.

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><p>Thor drops his wooden sword next to a pillar and throws his hands above his head in a spine-cracking stretch. His shadow spills like blood across the pale tile to fall over the side of the balcony. Behind him, inside the hall, a hundred voices rise together in a deafening roar.<p>

Loki subtly covers his ears and walks up beside his brother.

"They've brought out the boar, I guess," he says. Soon, the warriors will be competing for the best tale, shouting over each other about how many heads they had knocked from Jӧtun shoulders or how many lungs they had crushed and tangled. Loki frowns minutely.

"Yeah, sounds like it," Thor agrees. He drops his arms. Loki can see that he wants to go back inside to sit with the men. Thor loves the accounts of battle. He's almost old enough to accompany their father on hunting trips as it is.

This bothers him.

"Why did you ask me out here?" Thor continues, turning clear blue eyes to meet with green. His yellow hair forms a corona around his face, shining softly. His cheeks are thinning with the beginnings of manhood. He looks more like the king every day.

"Oh," says Loki. He casts his gaze about for a good excuse and settles for the sunset. "I simply thought the clouds looked particularly promising tonight." He strides forward. "Perhaps I should become a falcon and take a closer look?" He lets a smile brighten his face as he peers back over his shoulder.

Thor stands still by the pillar, cross. "You can see clouds whenever you want, Loki. Let's go back."

Loki turns away and sticks a toe into the air. All of Asgard lies beneath him, distant and golden and austere.

"_Loki."_ Thor sounds angry now. He's nervous. "The storytelling begins. Come away from the edge." He sheathes his sword once more in his belt. Loki hears it rasp against his breeches.

He ends up following his brother back into the din and dark, air heavy with the scents of mead and burned flesh. Thor already looks perkier, seeking out his friends in the crowd. Loki has to stop a sudden urge to reach out, to touch him and pull him back. Back outside, or back to their old shared bedroom, or back to the beginning, he doesn't know. It feels like something is changing.

_Come away from the edge, Thor._ The words are on the tip of his silver tongue.

Then he blinks, and Thor is gone.

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><p>Comments are lovely!<p> 


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